Anywhere- Destiel
by deandeanthekillingmachine
Summary: Dean is a hollow, lonely, shell of a man. Castiel is a recluse with no social skills and writes the scripts for the show Dean is an actor for. Neither have met before they both win awards, and Castiel is forced to visit the set. Castiel dislikes Dean initially, but Deans charm and wit win him over eventually. This is their love story.
1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester has always been a good liar. It's why he's so good at his job. He is able to convincingly put up an appearance and effectively become another person. Sam liked to say it was because he didn't like who he was, so he had a psychological need to be someone else. Dean liked to say it was because he was just good at his job. None of that psycho-mumbo-jumbo crap.

Either way, Dean was about to receive a very prestigious award for his skill at deception, otherwise known as his 'acting'. _It's so stupid. I don't deserve this._

Dean hadn't been able to sleep for the last hour, tossing and turning. Finally, the alarm went off. He was free from his obligation to try and sleep now. He rolled out of bed, not sure what to do with his day off. Go to the gym, maybe hang out with Jo, work on the car a bit. He would need to do some calming things like that before going up on stage. Dean may be magic behind a camera, but live, he was a hot mess and he knew it. It was only a matter of hours now.

Dean wondered who would show up. He had invited his family, but he knew they weren't into the red carpet. Even less than he was. Bobby always grumbled because he couldn't wear his plaids, and all the pushy cameras always pissed off Ellen.

But Charlie would definitely come; she never passed up the chance to rub elbows with celebrities. Dean was glad. He missed his favorite wing-woman. It had been maybe six months since they had gone out to pick up dates together.

Only Charlie knew the truth about Dean. Sam probably picked up on it too, but never said anything. Dean was lonely. He put on his act, slept around, because that was his image. Even off the screen, Dean lied everyday, acting like he was enjoying life. But he was never really happy, and was becoming increasingly frustrated with his brief connections with people. He wanted someone to understand him, not the act. Someone to cut through all his bullshit.

But Dean supposed that was simply too much to ask for.

Castiel was in a rut. He knew it; his readers knew it, even his brother had eventually noticed. He hadn't been able to hammer out a quality page for over two weeks now. He kept sending in mediocre work, but he knew that the other writers and producers were becoming increasingly frustrated. He was whom they depended on. He was their problem solver. He was siting at his desk trying desperately to feel inspired by anything at all when the doorbell rang.

"Who's there?" He asked foolishly. He knew exactly who it was.

"Me! Open up!" Gabriel pounded on the mammoth stainless steel industrial-grade sliding door to Castiel's loft apartment again. The sounds ricocheted off the vaulted ceilings, through the hollow apartment.

"Be patient Gabriel, really." Castiel muttered, yanking on the door with his most ferocious scowl. Gabriel just grinned and breezed past him.

Castiel tried valiantly to keep his expression sour, but Gabriel's happy attitude was too infectious, and Castiel ended up cracking a timid smile. Gabriel had to be the only person on earth who was able to melt Castiel's icy shell, and he knew it, too. Gabriel had been making it a habit of dropping by every couple of days, claiming he missed Castiel. But Castiel knew it was because Gabe was worried about him getting any human interaction.

"Look, Gabe, I was trying to write, can you come back tomorrow?" Castiel knew Gabriel didn't really care if he interrupted Castiel's writing, but he really had wanted to be alone in his misery for one night.

"No can do, Cassy. It's that award tonight. You're coming with me. I gave you just enough time to shower and dress. I absolutely refuse to take no for an answer. Balthazar is meeting us here in half an hour." Gabriel settled in on Castiel's couch, putting the TV on. He pointedly ignored Castiel's grumbling as he stalked past.

"Atta boy Cassy!" Gabe called out as Castiel gave in.

Dean should have been nervous, but he really wasn't. He was way out of his element at this fancy party, but hey, there was an open bar. He could make do for the few hours he was required to stay, and then he could slip out and maybe pick up a hot chick along the way. So Dean felt more optimistic than anything else.

"Ay, Sammy!" He spotted Sam through the crowd to penguin suits. A pretty blond in a steel blue floor length dress on his arm, Sam meandered over to Dean.

"Jess! How are you? How's mini gigantor doing?" Dean gave her an enthusiastic hug around the shoulders, and gave a little listen to her swollen belly.

"Dean! We're doing great! Have I shown you the latest pictures?" Jess gushed and reached for her delicate little purse, pulling out two grainy black and white pictures. Dean put on his best smile. He loved Jess. Sam's wife of over a year now was the sweetest girl you would ever hope to meet. He always made sure to keep a pleasant mask up just for her.

Dean would deny it until the end of time, but he was just a teeny bit jealous of his baby brother. Sam had the life. But he smiled his best glassy, happy smile, and hoped it covered all the cracks.

Eventually the doors opened, and the ostentatious, excessive people shuffled into the gilded theatre where the event was being held. The lights were not only on the stage but on the seats as well, so that the famous faces sitting in its midst could be seen clearly.

Dean was seated in the front row, since he was receiving one of the many awards that night. As the hosts began with a few playful jokes at each other's expense to warm up the audience, Dean vaguely wondered if he should have planned something to say. He knew most people said they hadn't, but then would launch into a clearly rehearsed speech, but he had tried his best to ignore that this night was even going to happen, let alone thought about what to say.

"...Dean Winchester!" The bright red lips read from the little envelope, blasting Dean out of his daydream. He stopped zoning, and jumped up onto the stage. He plastered on a million watt grin, and accepted the little gold trophy from the woman. She motioned toward the microphone, clearly indicating he say something.

"Ahh... Well, thanks. To everyone out there who voted for me, my awesome family." _Crap, crap, crap! _Dean had no idea what to say. He sounded so generic. He reverted to his cocky asshole act. Hopefully he could think of something clever to say. He had always been awful with words.

"Well," He hefted the little golden thing up; "I guess this must make me officially famous now. Thanks y'all." Dean smirked at the female host, winked at the audience, and sauntered off the stage.

There was a smatter of applause, and Dean was glad awards were given based on performance, and not personality. He was also glad he had presented his bad boy persona to the public after he had secured his job. His bosses knew he wasn't really a complete asshat otherwise they wouldn't have ever hired him.

After one interview and another hour later, Dean was back at the bar, looking for someone to go home with. Sam and Jess had left, and Charlie had finally shown up. He glanced over at her. She was having considerably more luck than him, and was currently chatting up a lovely blond. Dean decided to call it a night and go home alone. Again.

Castiel was having a panic attack. The room was spinning, the voices around him distorted and loud. He franticly looked around for an exit, he needed air, yesterday. The lights were glaring, and his breath was becoming short and accelerated. His heart rate shot through the roof, and he began to sweat through his expensive tux. He knew this was a bad idea. The crowd was crushing him.

Balthazar finally returned, two alcoholic beverages in hand. He took one look at Castiel, and set them down at the nearest table. He pulled out the chair, and forced him to sit. He pulled out two little white pills out of his breast pocket, put them in Castiel's mouth and made him wash it down with the fine whiskey he had brought.

"Balthazar what the hell was that?" Mere minutes later, Castiel was beginning to feel the effects.

"I filched some of your anxiety pills. I know you thought you could do it, but dear, look at yourself." Balthazar was infuriatingly patient, and he was right. Castiel knew he shouldn't have attempted this night without any help. He had gone so long without an attack he thought he was finally getting better.

All hopes now dashed, and feeling considerably calmer, Castiel finally took a look around. The bar outside the theatre was spacious, the coffered ceiling and walls painted in gold and held up by rich mahogany supports. The room was filled with elegantly dressed people; Castiel only recognized one or two, being fellow writers. The rest must be the actors and actresses who played his characters.

When the lights flickered and dimmed, Balthazar led the way to their seats. The ceremony was quickly begun, and Castiel had no time to feel nervous, his award was one of the first few. He wondered what he was receiving this for. He hadn't paid much attention to it until now.

"...And we shall end the writers awards with the last but certainly not least, Writer of the Year. This writer has dedicated more to his work than any other this year, producing words read by many of our other award winners, and writing into existence the other worlds which earned our production, directors, and technological awards. This years Writer of the Year goes to... none other than my characters very own creator, Castiel Novak!" Castiel's eyes widened. Well this was shocking. He hadn't expected this. Surely, Balthazar should have warned him. Or perhaps Gabriel could have said something? Apparently neither thought to warn him.

But oh, now he was on the stage, how did he get here? And now he was accepting the award, a little golden thing. And then the lady was pointing at the microphone, and he was speaking. Man, those pills must have been magic, because Castiel had never spoken in public, on a stage, in front of anyone in his entire life, let alone millions of people who were currently watching. He had no idea what he said, but it must have been somewhat okay, because people were laughing and smiling, and then he was back in his seat.

Balthazar asked if he was okay, but Castiel was gone. He stared at nothing, not even thinking. His brain was now fried, and Balthazar, thank god, managed to get him out to the car, skipping the interview and after party completely.

In the car, Castiel said nothing, but stared out at the city. Balthazar began musing to himself about how this would affect Castiel's life and career. Castiel was finally brought back to the real world when he heard Balthazar saying he would actually have to show up to his sets now.

"WHY?" Terror colored his voice. The pills were wearing off too fast. They were still ten minutes away from his apartment.

"Look, Cassy, calm down. We can talk about this later, all right? Lets just get you home. Please calm down." Balthazar held up his hands, as if placating a wild animal. Castiel let it go. He was just so tired. All he wanted was to sleep. The whole ordeal had been absolute hell.

Dean Winchester hated weekends. He rarely spent them at his apartment, choosing instead to go on set and rehearse or work on something. The tech and set guys all knew he could handle himself, and they let him help out every now and then.

But on days like today, when there was no more preparation for the next weeks filming, Dean was either forced to help out in the studio or just chill in his trailer. Or have a personal life. Ha. As nice as his trailer was, Dean needed to feel helpful. So indoors he goes.

The studio was large, almost a warehouse, made from brick, with few windows and a bureaucratic air to the cubical filled rooms. Dean figured he should visit Sam first. It was a Saturday, so he would definitely be in today.

Legal was on the third floor, so Dean was forced to hop in the elevator. There was always a chance he might run into Zachariah in there, so he generally avoided them. But today, the journey was all clear. Sam was not surprised to see Dean, but he was swamped with work, since they were currently fighting a number of lawsuits from their rival, Morningstar Studios.

Unfortunately, just as Dean was about to leave, Becky Rosen, one of the Assistants from the Writing Department, popped in. Becky was, to be kind, friggin' annoying. She followed Sam and Dean around sometimes, and was like a groupie they just couldn't shake. But Dean humored her, if only because she was a veritable goldmine of information and gossip. But Dean would never admit to it, he just liked to be 'well informed'.

Today, Becky seemed particularly excited. She must have something particularly juicy for him.

"Becky! Just who I was hoping to see!" Dean flashed her a smirk. Becky looked surprised, but pleased.

"I was wondering where everybody is. I haven't seen anyone around here today. Place feels empty for a Saturday." Becky perked up, and began bouncing excitedly.

"That's actually why I was here. I was coming to get Sam. We have a special guest today down in writing. Everyone's freaking out. Trust me you want to be there. Come on!" Becky, with surprising strength for such a small woman, grabbed Sam, hauling him out of his cubicle. Sam grabbed Deans arm and Dean found himself in the elevator, sandwiched between a vibrating Becky and a pissy Sam.

The conference room was not large, but it wasn't tiny either. About 20 to 30 people could probably fit inside. The entire floor seemed to be mostly open space, with a cluster of desks and computers in the middle, and comfy looking chairs littered about. There was a couch by the far wall, and along one side ran a row of offices, and the singular conference room. Paper was scattered on the tables, notepads, pens, and pencils cluttering up any free space.

Castiel, Gabriel and Balthazar each sat in a plushy chair. Gabe had delightedly jumped into a hot pink one, promptly unwrapping his lollypop. Balthazar had chosen a navy blue chair, and sat with his arms crossed, an air of disdain permeating out from him. Castiel had slunk to a bright yellow chair, liking its brightness. He wrapped his trench coat around him tighter, and shifted down further. The Head of the Writing Team, Bobby Singer, remained standing.

"Look, so, this is where we write, and hold meetings, and that's my office over there. I'm gonna go get some work done, if you don't mind, and Kevin here will show you around for today." Bobby was gruff, but in a friendly, paternal way. Kevin plopped down into the green chair next to Castiel. Castiel pulled away, hopefully subtly, so that there was at least four feet separating them.

"So uh, yeah, he is usually like that. But uh, he is kind of the best at what he does, so. Anyway, here is where we usually do most of the work. Every episode you send in goes through Bobby first, and then he sends it out to all of us. We read, give it some annotations, write some thoughts out, and then we gather the next day in here to discuss. Oooh, there's Garth. You should meet him." Kevin had begun launching into a full-fledged detailed description of every phase of the writing process, but just as he was winding himself up, a skinny man in a ratty flannel and trucker hat popped out of the elevators. Followed by what could only be described as a hoard of people. Castiel could feel his anxiety spike, despite the pills.

Balthazar, who had been thus far silent, stood. He held up his hands and said as pompously as possible,

"Oy there, whoa. Keep your distance. Cassie here needs his space." At that Castiel stood, placing a hand on Balthazar's arm. He shook his head, and even though he felt his blood pressure jumping he managed to indicate it was okay. He even managed a smile, small as it was. He would prove to them he didn't need to be coddled, treated like he was contagious or an invalid. Balthazar sat back down, and so did Castiel. The remaining people pulled up chairs and sat. Garth, the apparent ringleader, opened the conversation, asking Castiel how his day was going so far. Castiel smiled at the easy question, and despite his discomfort, he found the group to be engaging and friendly. The discussion was lively and Castiel found himself participating, even laughing whenever he understood a joke. Maybe this wasn't a disaster after all.

Dean didn't like the writer's room. It was so colorful, like some one had vomited a rainbow all over it. The bubble chairs were just stupid looking, most of them were an embarrassing shade of pink or eye blindingly bright. Today, said chairs were circled around three men.

Becky squealed and pulled Dean and Sam by their wrists over to the group. Dean could see Garth, Rufus, Jo, Ellen, Gordon, Victor, Jess, Amelia, Sarah, and Missouri. He figured he better sit with Jo, since she was his best friend, but Becky had other ideas. Becky shoved Kevin over, pulled up a large baby pink chair over, and shoved Dean down. He landed with a _whuff. _He glared at Becky, who merely smirked. She and Sam sat behind him.

"Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," The British man in the blazer glared at Dean, like it was his fault. Dean smirked. He crossed his arms and sunk low into his chair, attempting to be inconspicuous and nonchalant. The man continued, clearly dismissing the incident.

"So none of you ever knew where the scripts were coming from?" The Brit was incredulous.

"Well, we knew a name... " Kevin trailed off weakly.

"Yeah, Novak or something like that, right? But no ones ever seen him before. 'Cause he's an old hermit or something. " Dean figured he might as well jump in to the discussion, rather than sit and wait to figure out what they were talking about. Of course that meant Dean was nearly guaranteed to say something stupid, which he clearly did judging from the awkward laughs and whispers. Dean just rolled his eyes. Of course, Sam chose this opportune moment to clue Dean in, whispering in his ear,

"Dean you are currently sitting right next to said 'old hermit'." Dean whipped his head around to meet accusing blue eyes, not two feet from his face.


	2. Chapter 2

That insolent assbutt.

"I am neither old nor a hermit. I am offended you would think so." Castiel felt like a robot, his emotions muffled by the pills. Green eyes sparkled back at him, the dawning of realization flickering across his face, along with embarrassment, shock, arrogance and a flash of... interest?

"I, well, oh. Uh," Dean Winchester, Hollywood's current favorite heartbreaker and most suave, eligible bachelor was stumbling for words. Castiel narrowed his eyes at the young man. _How exactly did he manage to be cast for such a complex character? How on earth has he been successful at it? What an idiot. _Its not like Castiel expected people to know who he was by sight or by name, but he was slightly hurt that the star of his show would talk about him in such a way behind his back.

"Well, I'm Dean Winchester, I'm sorry to have offended you. But it's sort of true. Not the old part, the hermit part. You are definitely not at all old. In fact you're quite young and attractive. Oh. Oops. Shit. I should shut up. Um, I guess, nice to meet you finally?" Dean sounded very uncertain, he had even put his foot in his mouth again, but was quickly pulling himself back together, offering his hand for Castiel to shake. He had also moved his chair away slightly. He looked like a scared rabbit about to flee. Castiel felt himself soften towards the young man. He was clearly flustered and embarrassed, so Castiel figured he should relent.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Dean. I have heard a lot about your portrayals of my characters. All good things do not worry. And you are right; I have become rather socially reclusive. But I am hoping to change that. I will be bringing my scripts to you personally from now on, and hopefully, if you will let me," He began addressing the assembled writers as a whole, trying to ignore the shocked faces of Balthazar and Gabriel alike, "I would like to participate more in the development and production process as well." He turned back to Dean, peering from the corner of his eye, as he slowly looked Dean over, head to toe.

"And you are not so bad looking yourself Mr. Winchester." Dean flushed bright red, pushing his chair farther back as he slouched down, trying to make himself invisible. What had possessed him? Castiel didn't know. Inside he was freaking out, but somehow he was cool, calm, collected in front of this, frankly, gorgeous Greek god who moments ago had insulted him, and now he was flirting?! What. The. Heck. He didn't even know if the actor was gay! Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Castiel began to shut down, as the room erupted in laughter and excited chatter.

_ That man_, Dean decided_, that attractive, sex-haired, ocean-eyed, genius writer, is flirting with me._ And so Dean panicked of course. He was not prepared for this today. It was Saturday, his day off. He didn't have all his acts ready and waiting to be used and worn at a moments notice. All he was in the mind set for today was his, 'Yes, Sammy, I'm okay. I'm fine. I like being perpetually single. I'm happy. Now lets go get a beer,' act.

Thankfully, he didn't have to do anything immediately. He could panic and sit and blush like a fricking virgin for the next hour while Castiel talked to the other writers. All he had to do was listen. Around the time the conversations started getting more personal and the questions slowed down, Bobby emerged to yell at them for slacking. Dean jumped up, intending to get out asap, but as luck would have it, Sammy was right there, a vise like grip around his arm, forcing him to stay. _Damn him._ Castiel approached him first thing, and all Dean could think about was how it felt like he was being led to his death, the executioner approaching slowly but surely, inevitably.

"So. Here is my email. I do not have a cellular phone, so if you want to speak with me, this is the only way. Goodbye, Mr. Winchester." Castiel looked so unsure in that moment, so awkward and hopeful, it tugged at Dean's heart. He took the business card, tucking it in his pocket, and smiled warmly. It was genuine, which was rare, and Dean felt... Happy?

"Call me Dean. Castiel, right? That's a mouthful. Can I call ya Cas?" Dean felt the mask sliding into place, slipping into his southern drawling charm and wide smirk. Castiel smiled back, and it reached his eyes, which crinkled slightly. Dean felt warmth spread inside him along with that smile.

Dean. Dean. _Call me Dean. _Castiel was smiling stupidly, Gabriel was driving him home, and Balthazar was planning his next party. Castiel wasn't paying any attention, so he didn't hear it when Gabriel started teasing him.

"Cassie? Aww is baby Cassie in wuvvvv? Daww. Did a certain green eyed stud sweep you off your feet with his blank stare and stuttering idiocy?" Gabriel was teasing, but it was rather mean.

"Right? Okay, Cassy, I never figured you to be attracted to the Neanderthal cave-man type. Always thought you went for the whole 'intelligence is sexy' thing." Balthazar was getting in on it now, preferring to poke fun at Castiel than hash out the catering details.

"I found him pleasing. It was not his fault that he did not know who I was. He was just embarrassed, not stupid." Castiel knew he would be checking his email obsessively for the next few days. He still couldn't believe he had done that at all. After Meg... Castiel wasn't really in the dating game anymore. He thought he never would be again, honestly. He was perfectly happy living his life from the safety of his apartment.

Castiel bid Gabriel and Balthazar goodbye, and proceeded up the stairs to his apartment. As soon as he got inside, he shucked his coat off onto the couch and pulled out his laptop. It was ridiculous to think Dean would have emailed him already, but he might as well check. Crowley hopped up onto the table, mewling. He must be hungry. Castiel scratched him behind the ears, and Crowley batted his hand away, running over to his food dishes.

After refilling said dishes, Castiel sat on the couch with his laptop. It wasn't stalking per se... just a curiosity. Castiel had never actually seen his show. Sure, he had written scripts, and received the final copies with the teams edits so he knew what direction they were heading in, but he had never needed to see them actually be portrayed. He wrote a continuous story. Anything the actors brought to the characters was irrelevant to Castiel. He was able to write his characters based on the words, not the actions. So he had heard of Dean Winchester before... but never actually seen him before today. He had to admit, Dean looked nothing like what he had envisioned his character Dan to look like.

Hesitantly, Castiel typed Dean's name into the Google search box. The results were... varied. The first link was for a twitter page. The second was a facebook account. The third appeared to be some sort of blue blogging site. After clicking on that one, Castiel was sure he was scarred for life. Someone had drawn, with incredible skill and attention to the minute details of the male human anatomy, his two main protagonists in rather compromising positions. With each other. He closed that tab rather quickly. The fourth one he clicked on seemed to be a news site. More of a tabloid, the website held an article discussing opinions and rumors. Concerning Dean's love life. Or lack thereof. Castiel read the whole article, and inspected the accompanying pictures, which showed Dean walking along the street, in sunglasses and a leather jacket, and then driving a black vintage car.

Castiel shut his computer abruptly. He shouldn't be doing this. He was a grown man, and he may be lonely, but he had no right to go reading a tabloid filled with what were probably vicious lies. Castiel sighed. He pet Crowley. And then he got up, put on a cup of tea, and que'd up his first pilot from over 5 years ago.

The next day was a Sunday. Dean had his special Sunday routine. Somehow, he had already screwed it up, and it wasn't even 10 a.m. yet. First, he woke up late. Then he burned his bacon. Finally, he tripped over his own feet mid run, face planting onto the sidewalk. It was a horrible start to his day, and he was in a foul mood. The only thing worth doing when he got like this was working on Baby. His frustration would boil over with anything else. Buried elbow deep in the grease and metal of his car, Dean found peace. His tension bled out. His mind, initially chaotic, became focused on the task, and he was able to organize his thoughts. It was like meditation, Dean style.

After a few hours, he got hungry. Besides, with his car in near perfect condition to start with, there really wasn't much to do anyway. He went inside to fix a sandwich and cup of coffee. Without the car to focus on, his mind drifted back to a certain set of blue eyes that he had overslept dreaming about. And then zoned out over the stove imagining. And then daydreamed about while running, right before his face kissed the concrete. He couldn't escape it. Castiel was stuck in his head and there was nothing he could do about it.

After eating, he couldn't find anything else to do with Baby, so he called up Bobby.

"Don't you have any lines or crap to memorize for next week?" Bobby growled into the phone.

"Nah. Already done. Besides I cant just sit around today. Sure you don't have anything you could use a hand with? I could use the distraction." _Besides if I stay here one more minute I might just email the bastard. _Dean was desperate to have work to do. He had already given in and Googled the son of a bitch the night before. The computer was pure temptation and Dean was having trouble resisting.

"Well... I do have this one ancient Mustang that could really be something if I had the time. You can work on that if you want." Bobby didn't bother waiting for a reply before hanging up. Dean ran out to his Baby, and made it to Bobby's in less than 20 minutes. He worked on the Mustang until well past sunset.

"Boy, you oughta go home now." Bobby stood next to the car Dean was under. All Dean could see were Bobby's worn boots shuffling back and forth.

"Soon, Bobby. Just gotta finish this up." Dean knew he was hiding. But Bobby saw right through him and kicked him out with a gruff "Get some sleep, kid."

So Dean went home. Ate some leftover pizza and collapsed down into bed. He had work tomorrow. What if Castiel was there? The anxiety gnawed at Dean's stomach. He stared at the ceiling. He barely knew Cas anyway. It shouldn't matter if he came or not. Yet Dean was caught up in yet another fantasy, this time Cas watching with an impressed look on his face while Dean worked. His fantasy expanded, and Castiel was standing very close, telling Dean how impressed he was, and then Dean was walking with Castiel to his trailer, and inviting him inside, and then they were kissing, Dean was pushed up against the door, and Cas was removing his trench coat, and then...

Dean was finally able to sleep, having taken the edge off. As he drifted off in a post-orgasmic haze, he refused to acknowledge it. If he didn't think about it, it wasn't real. Ignore something enough and it'll go away. _I do NOT have a crush on Castiel Novak, writer extraordinaire, sexy motherfucker, and blue-eyed baby bird. Nope. Not at all. Goddamnit, Winchester, pull yourself together..._

Mondays. Nobody liked them. Why do they exist? Why cant we just skip straight from Sunday to Tuesday? A guy can only dream. Castiel sipped his coffee and slouched in his chair. He couldn't believe this was his idea. Inconceivable. It was four thirty a.m. for Christ sake. No one should be up this early, not even the birds. Yet here he was, on a bustling set filled with people. Dean and his costars for the day were all here already too; being prepped and groomed while the equipment was set up.

"Hey bro." Gabriel popped up by his elbow, arms filled with pastries and sweets.

"I see you found the food. Glutton much?" Castiel eyed the raspberry danish threatening to tumble to the ground. He snatched it just so it wouldnt fall and be wasted.

"Hey!" Gabriel tried to slap his arm away, but only managed to make the enormous pile teeter precariously.

"Where did you get all these anyway? I'm sure they wouldn't have let you just take this many." Castiel was suspicious. Rightly so, too.

"Well... No one was watching the table, so I helped myself. Besides, not like any of these 'perfect' celebrities can bring themselves to eat a carb. Heaven forbid." Gabe rolled his eyes in sarcasm. Right then, Sam Winchester came lumbering over. He eyed the pastries in Gabe's arms. Gabe glared at him.

"Hello, Sam. Nice to meet you again. How are you?" Castiel attempted to be polite, but he must have sounded as grumpy as he felt because Sam just laughed.

"I'm... good. Exhausted, but good. Honestly no one should ever be awake at this time of night, but 'tis the life. You'd think id be used to it by now though." Sam sat in the chair next to Castiel's.

"Sam, aren't you in legal? You don't need to be here at all. Why are you here so early?" Castiel snatched another pastry and simultaneously drained his coffee. Gabe looked miffed, but kept quiet, probably since his mouth was full.

"Yeah, well, I'm actually here for Dean. The baby complained he 'couldn't make it through today without me here'. So here I am. At... five a.m. Fantastic. The things I do for that jerk." Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly, and then eyed the pastries again, hungrily. Castiel watched as he shot out his hand real fast grabbing an apple twist. Gabe squaked indignantly, spraying crumbs.

"Thats, ah, nice. So, how is Dean anyway?" Castiel felt like a silly teenager, asking his crush's brother for intel.

"He's... good. He doesn't usually need me here, but he said today was special or something. I dunno. Dean... well, he raised me. And now, well, now he seems to need me to watch over him, ya know? He never dealt with stuff when we were kids, and now he's... fragile. So when he asks, I get up at four a.m. for him. Anything I can to support him, to be there for him." Sam looked worried about sharing this, but Castiel was fascinated. Dean didn't seem like the type to need anyone else. He was so independent. Castiel nodded as if he understood, but didn't want to pry.

"Well, this has become depressing, so... Hey you want more coffee? I need a refill too. I'll be right back." Sam whisked away with Castiel's cup. Gabriel popped another cream puff into his mouth before speaking.

"Cassie, I like that guy. He's... a hottie." Gabe's eyes twinkled in mischief, and Castiel groaned and slouched even further down, trying desperately to hide in his trench coat.

Of course at that moment, Dean walked onto the set, trailing makeup girls and a woman with an official looking clip board and headset. His hair was gelled into position, and he was wearing tight dark jeans, accentuating his bowed legs, and a deep green tee. Deans eyes, flicked over the set, searching for something. His eyes found Castiel sitting in the corner, and Castiel felt the breath knocked out of him. He tried to hide even more. Maybe if he could shrink small enough Dean wouldn't see him. It was a ridiculous notion of course, and Castiel could feel Dean's eyes on him.

Dean seemed torn. He stared at Castiel like he wanted to come over and say hello, yet he didn't move. Finally, Castiel forced himself to meet Dean's eyes. Blue on green. Dean jerked himself away, turning to get into place for the first take. Castiel audibly sighed, and Gabriel of course never let him forget about it for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stood on the white X taped to the floor of the fake hospital hallway. He eyed the ugly yet insanely comfortable white sneakers he had been instructed to wear suspiciously. They were undoubtedly fugly. The crew rushed around him as usual, putting the final touches in place, or running quick equipment diagnostics. The shoot would start any minute now. Kirpke and Singer were already in their chairs, the head cameraman was in place, and his bitchy co-stars could be heard bickering just off the set. All in all it was a very typical day.

Lisa, who played a nurse on the show, was sitting at the computer behind the desk next to him. She played with her dark curls as she waited for everyone to settle in for the scene. She was a real pro, and they had worked together since the start of the show. They'd even dated for a while, but that had ended disastrously years ago. Thank god their professionalism was something they had in common, or Dean would have been unable to continue on the show.

Dean took deep breaths. He wasn't exactly nervous, but Cas being here had the whole crew on edge, and that tension was rubbing off on him. Sam shot him a thumbs up, and that helped to quell his childish nerves. He took his place leaning over the counter for a chart, already having traced out all the X's on the floor marking his path.

His character was Dan, the openly bisexual doctor who doubles as a nighttime vigilante, and was one of the first lead characters on mainstream television to be out of the closet, but that fact doesn't dominate the character. It was never mentioned, simply shown over the course of the second and third episode to be one small aspect of the whiskey-loving, intelligent, cowboy-boot-wearing, trust-fund-brat who fights organized crime in his city by night and patches up children and teenagers in his pediatric ICU wing of the hospital by day.

Sure, it's a drama, so there's always the 'look who's pregnant', 'look who just died', 'you're the father, not him', 'guess who cheated', "just kidding, you're not the father" moments, but it goes beyond that. Dan has a perfect antagonist, who is the right mixture of evil and human, just tortured enough to angst through five seasons and just smart enough to evade him for five seasons. The arch-nemesis, unlike most films, is a woman, and an old one at that. Sharp as a tack, "Mama Ram" is full of anger, and looking for revenge. The audience is torn between hating and pitying her.

Because of Dan's ethical code, he rarely kills, but sometimes self-defense gets ugly. In season 3, the cliffhanger was him being shot in the chest. But for the most part, between the fight scenes, it's a show primarily made up of Dan attempting to be happy. Much like Dean, he struggles with making meaningful connections with others, and thus runs through dates like he does whiskey. His character is enigmatic, witty, sarcastic, tortured, and lonely. Dean never understood how Castiel had thought him up, but now he realizes there are some unlived fantasies in this character, where Castiel was expressing himself. It's interesting, and gives him a whole new take on how to view Dan's exploits.

In this scene he flirts with Lisa, and while in real life Lisa is a complete sweetheart who couldn't hurt a fly, in this she is legitimately a bitch from hell, who dates Dan, and breaks his heart by cheating on him. Even worse was in season 2 when he dated Ruby's character, also a nurse, who was actually working for The Ram, and he had to nearly kill her in a fight. And then patch her up afterwards when she came crawling to his house after. And then obviously, break up with her. All without her knowing he was the vigilante. And then have her hate him for two seasons before dating Dan's sister, played by Pam, who is blind. Dan goes through a lot of trouble trying to convince his sister not to date the psychopath who's been sabotaging him at work and at night for two years, and nearly loses his sister.

Anyway, in this scene Dan doesn't know 'Sarah' has slept with 'Joe', from the Oncology ward. They have to flirt a bit and then Dan will go see some 'patients' before heading home and kicking butt. After taking out a meth lab or two and landing some of the smaller time criminals of the main organization in jail, he heads back to 'Sarah's' only to find her 'making the beast with two backs' with 'Joe' from Oncology.

So, Dean flashes Lisa Dan's patented lets-do-the-dirty tonight smile while reaching across her for the charts, and she smiles coyly back at him. Dan then thanks her, and heads over to his first patients room, five steps from the desk, passing Ruby and having a small three sentenced snark fest with her, before knocking on the door. They run it only once more, since it's pretty easy and basic, before setting up the next part, inside the patient's room. This week they have a sweet little six year old playing the patient, having fallen and snapped his femur. Of course in the next episode they discover the leukemia. And then this child is the center of their efforts, Doctor Dan attempting to cure him while not flirting with his hot single father.

Dean legitimately hates this show sometimes. It used to be so family oriented, and even pretty deep, sending awesome messages about sexism and homosexuality, and now it's all drama and fight scenes. For some reason, the captivating character struggling with his will to live and with his faith that propelled them all to win so many awards has been somehow lost to Castiel. Dean knows- he knows- Castiel is a brilliant writer who knows exactly how to play an audience, especially since he has played other characters created by Cas in shorter series' and films, and even one play. Still, at its core, this is a show about people and their never ending decisions and choices, and their free will. It also continuously questions people's motivations. Why does Dan get up in the morning and save children's lives if he hates his own lonely existence so much? Why does he save lives, why does he fight the crime, why does he only drink lattes? So far, Castiel has been able to accurately portray people. People making stupid choices, people falling in love, people grieving, people having bad luck, people when they have a good day, a bad day, a birthday, etc. Living. But in a slightly-soapy way.

Dean's favorite work of Castiel's is The Stained Glass God which focuses on one mans struggle to reconcile his feelings for another man despite the decrees of the church. It won so many awards, and was one of the best performances Dean has seen in many years. But beyond that, Castiel brought up so many points and counter arguments against the homophobic church goers in the film. It changed a lot of the film industry, made it more common and okay to have non-straight orientations. It was a captivating film, mainly made up by the characters internal monologue. There wasn't a lot of dialogue or action, but there were flashbacks to being bullied in high school, and the character truly transformed over the 90 minutes, and came to love himself instead of hating himself. The cinematography was gorgeous as well. The actor was good, but he wasn't Dean. Dean knew he could have done better.

In any case, Dean hoped he could tell Castiel exactly what he thought of his work as soon as they were done. They were taking a short lunch break between scenes, so he tried to inconspicuously meander over to where Cas had been sitting. There he found Gabe with a mountain of twix bars, but no Cas.

"Sorry, lover boy. Cassy ran off with your hottie brother to like, get a sandwich or something." Gabe smirked.

"Well, first off, happily married brother and soon to be father, so back off. Second, I brought him a sandwich." Dean frowned at the offending rye and turkey he had brought. Gabe laughed at him.

"Give it to me then. I'll eat it." He said.

"Yeah, whatever, I thought you didn't eat anything not made out of solid sugar." He handed the sandwich over, rather reluctantly though. Gabe just happily took a bite.

"Well, I usually don't, but I have to sometimes." Gabe talked with his mouth full. Disgusted, Dean left. He sat in his trailer and ate his sandwich and brooded. The next scenes he felt off, although he tried to remain neutral and do his job. He just wanted to eat a sandwich with the guy, okay? And not getting to shouldn't put him in such a bad mood. It was ridiculous and he was acting like a sullen child having been rejected, he decided. So he shook it off and 'flirted' with Aaron, who played the hot dad, and inspected the kids 'injury'.

It was silly, but he couldn't get Cas Novak out of his mind. It was frustrating. He should just have given in and emailed the guy. What was he thinking waiting?

His scenes for the day were done by one pm, so he decided to head back to his trailer for a nap.

* * *

Sam Winchester was a very cheerful mammoth. However, he picked over his salad and ate an apple whilst recounting the various shenanigans he and Dean had gotten up to in their teens. He got so far as to describe the tattoo on Dean's left pectoral before Cas cut him off by asking about his life. It had to be done. Cas really shouldn't think about Dean's pectorals. Bad idea. In any case, he had a wonderful conversation with Sam about his wife and unborn daughter, and his job battling Lucifer, the Morningstar Studio's head lawyer, in court nearly every week. While the rest of the legal department for the studio was focused more on copyright issues of their own, Sam's sole responsibility it seemed was to deal with the man they had non-ironically dubbed, "The Devil". It sounded like a demanding position.

Cas talked a bit about his writer's block lately, and how he was hoping meeting the actors and seeing the characters portrayed would help jumpstart him. So far, no epiphanies had occurred, but he was feeling slightly guilty about the soap-opera direction the show had flown in. He now saw truly how overly convoluted it had become. He would need to tone that down a bit, make it more realistic again. If it ever was, that is. After their lunch, Sam showed Cas around the set a bit. There were so many people, and Castiel felt so small, so insignificant. To think he was the reason they were all here, to produce one of his ideas into reality, was humbling. It was hundreds of people. It was incredible and overwhelming.

After a while, Sam took a look at his watch and apologetically said he needed to leave, but would take Cas back to his brother first. On the way back to Gabe, they passed by Dean's trailer, and Sam banged on the door loudly. Muffled cursing could be heard within, and a sleepy Dean popped his head out.

"Sammy! I hate you!" Dean yelled without looking. His hair was sticking up in all directions, clearly having been taking a nap only a moment ago. He blinked blearily, and Cas was caught up in his green eyes again. It was a problem. Sam laughed at Dean, who, catching sight of Castiel, immediately blushed bright red, and straightened up, looking sheepishly down at his pajamas and sweatshirt.

"You're a bitch, Sammy. Why'd you wake me up? So I could embarrass myself in front of Cas, yet again?" Cas smiled but shook his head at Dean, trying to indicate he had nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Well, you're a jerk. And, yeah, basically."

"Seriously, I don't get much sleep. I needed it." Sam just rolled his eyes, but Cas looked concerned.

"You really should get eight hours per night, Dean. Perhaps we should let you get back to that, and we can speak to you later. Come on, Sam. Let's go find Gabe." He turned to go, but Dean made a weird face. It was something between 'small boy who fell and scraped a knee' and 'kicked puppy dog'.

"No! Uh, I mean, Cas I was meaning to email you, but I was uh. Busy. Yeah. So, if you have time now, I'm not due back for an hour… We could get coffee… or something?" He's adorable when he blushes, Castiel decides. Sam grinning in the background, Cas just squints at him. Better to make him sweat it out for a minute.

"Would it be… a date?" He finally asks. Dean's blush intensifies. Suddenly his pink bunny slippers are a lot less embarrassing and very in need of being inspected.

"If you want." Dean finally scrapes out. Cas felt powerful, bringing this confident icon down to stutters and blushes. It's a huge burst for his self confidence, honestly.

"I prefer tea." Cas states finally, and starts walking back towards the sort-of cafe they have temporarily set up in the back of the cavernous warehouse for all the people to eat at. Sam laughs and head off in the other direction, and Dean starts to follow Cas, only to stop when he feels a breeze and shivers, once again realizing he is in public wearing a pair of pastel pink bunny slippers and pajamas.

"Cas, wait!" He shouts, already backtracking to the trailer. Cas pauses and turns.

"I need to put clothes on!" Dean shouts behind himself. Cas nods, and slowly meanders back to the trailer. By the time he gets back, Dean is popping out wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He sits on the trailers stairs to put his black biker boots on. Finally, he stands back up, flashing Cas a smile and tentatively taking his elbow in his hand.

"This way's a short cut." He mentions while leading Cas through the small space between two of the trailers. He doesn't let go of Cas's elbow the entire way to the cafe, simply liking their arms together as they walk side by side. Cas raises an eyebrow at him, but Dean just smirks and walks on.

They sit at one of the little tables set up next to the table of food. The woman in charge gives them a scowl. Cas gets a cup of chai and Dean a plain black coffee with sugar.

"So. Did you finally watch the show from the beginning?" Dean starts.

"Yes. I spent this weekend catching up. I found it very informative." Cas chooses his words wisely. It had been enjoyable, watching the show, because it was about forty minutes of Dean's face and phenomenal acting. It had been informative for the other ten minutes he managed not to ogle Dean for.

"So you think you'll do things different now?" Dean sips his coffee languidly. Cas has to hold off because it is simply too hot.

"Very. I had no idea how overly dramatic things were getting. This was, admittedly, one of my first television scripts, and not a movie or novel, so the whole ongoing without having a destination is beginning to throw me off, I think."

"So you're gonna tone down the soap opera crap? Like the illegitimate children and sleeping around? And unrealistic expectations and feats for a vigilante on his own, without even a sidekick to back him up or cover for him?" Cas's eyes widened in surprise. Dean shut his mouth with a snap and blushed, looking down at his coffee.

"Sorry. That was a little bit much."

"No, you are correct. I do need to do away with those elements. I need to slim it down to reality. Maybe have Dan meet a… nice accountant or lawyer who is genuinely good and loving. A guy, though. And maybe he can actually cure someone for once. And… Ruby and Lisa might leave. Transferring to another hospital out of the city. We can focus more on his efforts taking down the vigilante." Dean is over his embarrassment now, leaning forward, elbow on the table, head in hand, and the other hand holding his coffee cup. His green eyes are... luminescent, Cas thinks.

"Yes! Maybe that kids Dad? Aaron." Dean suggests.

"Oh, no. Sorry, Dean but Aaron is straight." Cas sips his tea.

"Well, how would you know? He can be whatever you make him."

"That episode is already written. Too late." He smiles apologetically at Dean. Despite this being a date, he feels at ease here. Dean's presence is calming. He brings no pressures or judgements. He is relaxed, so Cas can relax. It's pleasant. Cas basks in Dean's starlight. It's a soft, yet obvious and warm glow that covers him from head to toe.

"Oh. Okay. Make it like, an accountant. Who wears suits and has messy hair. A total nerd, but a sexy one. Someone awkward at first, but Dan charms his pants off. Not literally. Well, maybe literally, but not till later." Dean winks lasciviously.

"Is this Dan or Dean requesting his dream guy here?" Cas wonders out loud. Dean chuckles.

"A bit of both. Lucky for us, you're a pretty awkward yet sexy dude." Dean laughs, and Cas blushes, and both finish their drink. But… Cas doesn't want to go find Gabriel quite yet. Dean, it seems, has nowhere to be at the moment, so they sit for awhile longer, chatting about the show, or Sam, or their mutual love for black and white classical horror movies.

"Cas, I gotta tell you, I've been a fan for even years before this show. Ever since Stained Glass God, really. It was one of the best films I've ever seen. It was captivating, and the story was heart-wrenching." Cas, instead of preening form the compliment, looks forlorn and picks at the buttons on his jacket. Dean knows something is up, but Cas is not forthcoming. Dean figures he ought to let it go. He feels rather disappointed, and it must show on his face, because when Cas looks up he says,

"Oh, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm glad you liked it, but it came from a very dark time in my life, and it launched my career, sure, but at a very high cost." Dean nods understandingly, and tries to change the subject, returning to gushing about how proud he is of Sammy, and how excited he is getting to be an uncle soon. But soon enough, his hour it up, and a harried PA shows up to drag him back to wardrobe for the next scenes. Dean gives Cas directions back to Gabe, and does the awkward do-we-shake or do-we-hug after the first date dance, landing on shaking his hand. Cas seems weird about personal space.

Later, in the car, Gabe makes fun of Cas but he doesn't care. He didn't panic, he went on a date with Dean, and had a really great day. Gabe gives up on teasing long enough to very seriously ask,

"Cas. Do I need to do the older brother menacing I-will-castrate-you-with-a-spoon routine?"

"No, and even if it was that serious, you shouldn't do that. I'm not a baby you need to protect."

"I know you're not. It's still my job. Though I would hate to castrate him. Ending that genetic line is a crime against nature." Gabriel gives him a wink, before hopping out of the car and back into his asshole-ish personality. Cas sighs in resignation and heads inside.

That night, when he opens his email he finds a message from one 19dwinchester67 . It reads:

Dear Cas,

How are ya? Its only been like, fifteen minutes since I saw you, but I figured it'd be pointless and silly to wait longer. You don't mind right? Right. Anyway, I was hoping you were free this saturday? I have an event/dinner thing, but we could go get some real food afterwards? They only serve this salad and chicken crap, but we could go over to Harvelle's after? If your up for that, that is. Okay! Dean is done rambling now. Shutting up. Sorry.

Hoping he hasn't scared you off,

Dean

Cas smiles like an idiot at the message. It's stupid and silly, but Dean is showing interest, and that's more than Cas has seen in a really long time. His insides feel like liquid, but that might be because its dinner time. In any case, he swiftly replies that he is indeed free, and would love some "real" food.

When he heads to sleep that night, his dreams are filled with freckles and green eyes.


End file.
